Waking from a nightmare
by marivon
Summary: The preview for 1x15 got me so worked up I needed to get the following off my chest. So this is how I imagine Cat and JT helping Vincent get over his fears.
1. Chapter 1

**I was working on chapter 10 of my other story, 'Keeping him safe', but the preview for 1x15 got me so worked up I needed to get the following off my chest. So please bear with me while I imagine how Cat and JT can help Vincent get over his fears …. and review : )**

Vincent's words rang in Catherine's ears: _"I keep pulling back because I don't want to hurt you…. Two years ago I was with a woman and we were getting close and my adrenaline kicked in. I tried to fight it, I did, but I couldn't stop from changing…"_

Cat was relieved when he told her he had not killed that woman. Although he also said it was only because she got away. From the look in his eyes, Cat could tell that Vincent was scared to death at the thought that he might hurt or kill her if they got too close. She tried to soothe him by telling him that she felt that he had always been able to control himself around her. And while it was difficult to hear the first part of his c onfession, she had not been prepared for the second part:

_"Then I've been putting up a good front. You know, the truth is: I have never felt so out of control than when I do when I'm with you…"_

Out of control? For months she had been thinking the exact opposite: that she was doing him good, having a soothing effect on him. And now he was telling her that she actually made it more difficult for him to stay in control? That being with her actually meant torture for him, because he was fighting his adrenaline all the time?

She knew that Vincent could hear her erratic heartbeat and that he must have noticed, too, that the last thing he said to her upset her far more than his confession that he felt he had been close to killing an innocent woman. Struggling to recompose herself after what felt like a punch in the stomach and feverishly trying to come up with something to say to him that would not be hurtful, Cat was relieved when her cell phone rang.

It was Joe, wanting her back at the precinct for yet another meeting with the new ADA.

"Vincent, I have to go," Cat said, tears in her eyes. She was about to lean into him for a kiss before changing her mind and quickly stroking his left arm instead. He gave her a confused look but she couldn't worry about that now. She needed to get out of the warehouse before she broke down completely. "And don't you dare leave this place… I'll be back when I can… to update you on the hunt," she added, while walking away. The last thing she could hear as she walked through the door was Vincent letting out a prolonged sigh.

()

Joe was going to be furious. But when Catherine got to the precinct, she decided to sit in her car for another fifteen minutes until her eyes looked less red and swollen. She had broken down in tears as soon as she had been a good three or four miles from the warehouse, out of Vincent's earshot. Only the night before she had told him, with such conviction, that they could overcome anything as long as they were together. She could only shake her own head at her naivety now.

It had never entered her mind that being with her would actually be physically and emotionally painful for Vincent. He had pulled back repeatedly over the first few months they had known each other but she had always thought that he just was so unaccustomed to being around people other than JT and that trust issues were natural. And it had seemed to her that he had started to trust her more and more, even through the whole Alex debacle. The idea that he did not trust _himself_ had occurred to her of course, but she had also lulled herself into believing that she was actually helping him to slowly regain trust in himself, and that by accepting both his human and non-human side she was actually helping him to accept himself.

And now he told her that she actually made it more difficult for him to be in control? Why had he never told her before? Why did he not stay away from her if it was too painful? Why would he put himself through torture practically on a daily basis? Why not just pack and leave for his safe haven where he was away from her and more in control of his adrenaline, of himself?

Cat winced at the realization that Vincent may just have stuck around because, as Alex had said, he was always trying to do the right thing. When he had tried to pull away on the rooftop after saving Heather, she had told him that all she wanted was to share things with him, to figure things out with him. She had basically begged him to stay at her side, not realizing what strain that request would put on him, on his self-control.

He had said that he was in love with her, and she did not doubt his feelings, but being close to the person you love should not be as difficult as it apparently was for Vincent. It was well and good that her normal was being with him. But perhaps his normal should not be with her. All this time, she had lived with the illusion that she could bring him happiness when she actually brought him torture and self-doubt. Vincent was right: this was a nightmare he could not wake up from. Unless she helped him wake up from it.

After a meeting that seemed to go on for far too long and during which Cat only paid marginal attention to the latest version of the plans put in place to catch the vigilante, she quickly left the precinct before anyone could talk to her. It was coming up to 5pm. Without thinking twice, she dialled JT's number.

()

It was after 9pm. Vincent was nervously pacing around the warehouse. JT usually came home straight after class, and he was not picking up his phone. Vincent had also texted Catherine twice since she had left the warehouse in the early afternoon. He had wanted to tell her about his fears so many times before, and he was not sure he had explained himself really well. And then she had disappeared so quickly, and all he was left with was guessing why she had seemed to struggle more with his admission that he felt vulnerable and anxious to lose control around her than with his confession that he had nearly killed a woman when trying to have sex.

Vincent grabbed his phone and dialled Catherine's number. It rang six times before going to voicemail. He then rang JT. No answer, either. He texted Catherine: _Worried sick. Please call or text. Muirfield, Joe, ADA or not: going out to find you if I don't hear from you in the next ten minutes._ And then he texted JT: _Where the hell are you? Worried about Catherine. Call me now! _

As he was about to leave the loft ten minutes later, Vincent's phone rang. It was JT. "Stay where you are, big guy, Catherine is safe and sound. Just dropped her off at her apartment. I'll be there in about twenty-five." Before Vincent could ask what JT and Cat had been doing together all evening, or why Catherine had not replied to this texts, JT had hung up the phone. He had sounded distant and – angry?

Fighting the urge to call Catherine just to hear her voice for what seemed ages (it was only about fifteen minutes since he'd spoken to JT but it felt like an eternity), Vincent went to the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. His phone rang again. Drawing a sigh of relief when he saw the name on the display, he picked up: "Hey!" His voice was laden with emotion.

"Hi, sorry I didn't reply earlier. JT and I went to this really noisy bar… My phone was in my bag and I didn't check it until just now."

"Yeah, what were you guys doing at a bar? And why was I not invited along?" Vincent tried to joke but neither Catherine nor he were really in the mood for jokes.

"Well, I just informed him about the newest developments in the hunt for the vigilante. He'll tell you all about it when he comes in." She sounded drained.

Vincent swallowed. "I thought you said you'd come over to tell me yourself?"

"Yeah, that was the original plan. But then I thought that there really was no need for me to…" Catherine hesitated long enough for Vincent's heart to sink, "to make things more difficult for you…"

Vincent let himself drop onto the sofa. "What are you saying, Catherine?"

"I don't know what I'm saying, Vincent. I'm still trying to digest what you told me today… You know, all this time, I was thinking that being around me actually brought you some comfort and stability, that it made you happy – and now you tell me that it's the opposite, that it's been a constant struggle to stay in control… Why did you not tell me before? Why inflict this on yourself?"

Vincent could hear from Catherine's voice that she was fighting back tears. He needed to see her, to tell her that she _was_ his happiness, that he gladly accepted the struggle with his adrenaline levels for her. "I'm coming over, Catherine, OK?" he whispered, feeling himself becoming undone by the tone of her voice.

He could feel Catherine vehemently shaking her head at the other end. "I don't think that's a good idea, Vincent. It's not safe – Evan thinks the vigilante and I are linked, that he is circling me…" she swallowed hard, "that the vigilante is circling me like prey, closing in on me. I wouldn't put it past him to actually have my apartment watched. Looks like he and Gabriel are getting on like a house on fire which doesn't help us."

"OK," was all Vincent managed to say, mentally cursing himself for his monosyllabic answer. He had never been Mr. Eloquence but this was ridiculous. There were so many things he wanted to get off his chest and all he could come up with was OK. He realized that Catherine was waiting for him to speak. He managed to say: "So what happens now?" Great, Keller, just great! Way to go!

Catherine laughed a short, bitter laugh. "You wait for JT; he fills you in. I sit up all night thinking things through and when I come up with something that looks like a solution to this nightmare I come over, OK?"

"Catherine, I'm sorry…" Vincent started to say, head in hands and close to tears, but she interrupted him, her voice suddenly soft and soothing.

"Don't be. I'm glad you told me. I'm also glad that woman is OK, that you didn't harm her. For her and for your own sake. And I'm sorry, so sorry, Vincent. I was blind to the fact that you are struggling to be in control around me. It's just that it feels so natural for me to be around you that I never stopped to consider whether it was the same for you…"

"Catherine…"

"I just want what's best for you, Vincent, you know that, right? I believe – no, I actually know—that you would never ever hurt me. I feel completely safe when I'm with you. But I can't be selfish. I don't want you to go torture yourself every day just because I want to have you around…" Her voice trailed off.

Vincent sighed. Where had this all gone so wrong?

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Vincent, OK? Or soon, at any rate. Please promise me you won't leave the loft. JT will explain about the hunt. And try and get some sleep… " Catherine hesitated briefly before whispering "I love you."

Before Vincent could reply, she had hung up. He stared at his phone for a few seconds before dialling her number. She had already turned the phone off – his call went straight to voicemail.

He was about to leave the loft and go to her apartment, against Cat's express wish, when he heard JT arrive. He was in a taxi about a mile away and Vincent could hear the taxi driver asking JT if he really wanted to go to this particular area. JT mumbled something about an underground club that had just opened in the area, told the guy to stop around the corner and paid him.

Vincent could smell the alcohol on JT as soon as he entered the warehouse. And it was strong stuff, not just beer that he had been drinking.

"Hello, my dear friend," said JT as he stumbled through the door. He dumped his bag on the floor and staggered to the fridge to get a beer. Vincent was at his side in a second and grabbed the bottle out of his hand.

"I think you've had enough, JT," he said, looking at his best friend in dismay. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I could ask you the same question," said JT, fiddling with his glasses. "Except I already know the answer…"

Vincent knew that this was not going to be an easy conversation. He shoved a bottle of water in JT's hand and dragged him to the sofa, forcing him to sit down.

"What did you guys talk about? What did Catherine tell you? How much did you guys drink? She didn't sound drunk on the phone..."

"Oh, so she did call you after all. I told her to let you stew in your own juices for a little while. And yes, we had a few drinks. But I had more than her and then I got a bottle of scotch on the way back – just felt like the right thing to do, celebrate your stupidity, you know! Oh, and we talked about ways to keep your undeserving ass out of prison, out of a science lab, out of jail… You know, the usual…" said JT, avoiding Vincent's stare.

"My undeserving ass?"

"Well, Cat didn't really elaborate on what exactly happened between the two of you but it was pretty clear that you did or said something that really upset her today. My guess is, you pushed her away _again_ because you're afraid _again_… which makes you an undeserving ass, _again_."

"You know what happened two years ago, JT, I can't risk that – not ever, but especially not with Catherine. I don't think I could live with myself if I as much as gave her a bruise…" Vincent pleaded.

JT laughed in his face. "So you were going to live like a eunuch with Alex if you'd actually left with her? I mean, we didn't have this conversation then, did we?"

"Well, no, I don't know. It just felt different; my feelings were never as intense as they are for Catherine. I feel like I am not in control of myself when I'm around her."

JT shook his head and then put a heavy hand on his friend's shoulder. "I am far too drunk to explain all the ways you are being stupid right now, my friend, but let me tell you one thing before I go to bed: that evening when you broke out of the cage, you were not in control of yourself. I have seen you, you know, when you transform, plenty of times before. And before that night, I was never once scared for my life. But that night, there seemed nothing left of _you_. Whoever was attacking me was not _you_. Talk about out of control! I honestly thought I was a goner. With flashbacks of my miserable life, and all. Until Catherine showed up. You wanna know how long it took her to get you back to yourself? I'm going to say this reall so that even you can understand: s. s, d u d e."

Vincent stared at JT in utter disbelief as he got up and made his way to his bedroom. Before slamming his door shut, JT turned around and said: "If there is _one_ person who you are actually able to have sex with, Vincent, without you losing control, it is Catherine. She will always keep you safe, even in that department."


	2. Chapter 2

Catherine woke up a few minutes before 7am. She smiled at herself: she must have dozed off, after all. She remembered still being up shortly after 4am. She had worried that Vincent would show up at some stage even though she had asked him not to but he had stayed away. She did not really believe that Evan would have someone watch her apartment and she felt bad about having used that as a white lie with Vincent when all she needed was time to think without him interrupting her.

She had wrecked her head all night until – around 4am- something that JT had told her in the bar suddenly had caused her to sit up straight in her bed. That was it! She had laughed out loud as relief washed over her: VIncent might not believe her when she told him, but it was definitely worth a try! She had felt the urge to get up and drive to the warehouse right there and then, but suddenly she had felt really tired and had thought to herself that she would only rest for a little while before going to see Vincent.

So now it was morning already – she had slept longer than anticipated but was sure Vincent had been up all night. She turned on her phone and it beeped several times: he had called her repeatedly during the night. Catherine quickly jumped in the shower and got dressed. While she made coffee she called the precinct and said that she could not come into work. "I must have caught that stomach flu that's going around after all," she said, trying not to sound too upbeat.

At 8.50am, Catherine parked her car at a safe distance from the warehouse (which meant out of Vincent's earshot). She only had to wait for a couple of minutes before JT's reply to her text message arrived: _Remind me never to drink this much EVER AGAIN. Blurry memories but I may have mentioned the s-word to the big guy. Cringe. Will be out of here in ten. Good luck ; )_

Cat couldn't help but chuckle at JT's humour. He truly was a remarkable friend, both to Vincent and to her.

()

Vincent was lying on his bed, fully dressed, and listened to JT stumbling about downstairs. He was going to wait for JT to leave for work and then he would go and check up on Catherine. He felt like a stalker but he needed to see her, even just from a distance, to reassure himself that she was OK. JT's words from the previous evening had shaken Vincent to the core. How he wanted to believe that was JT had said might actually be true, that Catherine and he could be safely be together in _that_ way! But was he willing to take the risk? What if JT was wrong and he came to after beasting out to find the woman he loved hurt or ripped to pieces? The thought sickened him to the stomach.

Vincent could hear JT type a text message on his phone as he walked towards the door. He was glad that things between JT and Sarah were going so well. At least someone should have a carefree relationship!

As Vincent got up to leave the warehouse for the precinct, he felt Catherine as she entered his sensory range. He had not expected her to come to him early in the morning; he hadn't even allowed himself to hope to talk to her today. He realized that he was still wearing the same clothes as the day before and that he hadn't showered, either. She should not see him like this!

When Catherine parked her car and walked towards the warehouse, she was wondering if Vincent was looking at her from one of the upstairs windows. He was certainly aware of her arrival, so she would not have the element of surprise on her side. With each step she took she became more nervous and by the time she reached the top of the stairs she was afraid she was just going to hyperventilate and pass out before being able to talk to Vincent.

She steadied her breath and heart, scolding herself for getting carried away when Vincent could clearly hear everything that was going on within her, and knocked.

He was at the door in no time. His hair was wet and he smelled of soap. "Hey," he said in a hoarse voice. Catherine looked up into his face and saw that he had not slept a wink. She quickly brought her hand up to his face, traced his scar and gave him a light kiss on the mouth. She smiled as she realized that he had just brushed his teeth.

Although she just wanted to snuggle into his arms she forced herself to walk past him and unbuttoned her coat before taking it off, thus signalling to him that she was not just here on a quick errand.

"Catherine, are you OK? Are you not going to work today?" Vincent asked.

"No, I've got the 'stomach flu' – can't you tell I'm really sick?" Cat replied, smiling a mischievous smile. When she saw Vincent's tense face, she quickly grew serious again.

"Anyway, I think I might have had an epiphany at 4 o'clock this morning," she said as she sat down on the sofa. Vincent was clearly debating whether to sit next to her or not. So she just went on: "And I think I need to thank JT for parts of it, too." Vincent shot her a surprised look but didn't say anything.

"Can I ask you something, Vincent? Actually several questions. I hope you know you can be frank with me. It might be tough but I think it will help our situation…" He nodded.

"Here goes nothing," Cat thought to herself and launched into her first question.

"Am I completely wrong in thinking that I am able to calm you down, at least at times? I mean, when you were trapped in Iris's basement, or when you fugued out and broke out of the cage… what made you transform back?"

"Catherine, you know you have that effect on me. You calmed me down in those situations, your voice and your touch do wonders. I don't know how you do it but it's like you have this power over me. Even in the woods, just knowing that you were there next to me helped me snap out of it more easily. But that still doesn't mean that I wouldn't transform and…"

Cat held up her hand and Vincent stopped. "Second question: when you were nearly taken down by the police, you said you were about to turn thinking about what would happen if Muirfield took you in. How were you able to control yourself?"

Vincent started to pace in front of her, casting her nervous glances as he answered haltingly: "I had felt the change coming on for a while by the time I called you. My adrenaline really kicked in, especially after Alex told them my first name. When the guy asked me to put my hands on the car, I could see that they were about to change. And I could feel my face change. It was… it was only knowing that you were on your way there that kept me grounded enough to fight it…"

Catherine couldn't help but smile at Vincent's face as he surprised himself by what he had said. "OK," he said, finally sitting down next to her, "where are you going with this?"

"Just trust me, OK?" He nodded.

"OK, so question three: can we talk about what happened the night I got shot?" Vincent's face darkened. "I know it's not easy but I think it would help if you talked me through your feelings that night. So were you still you when you first saw me or had you turned already?"

Vincent swallowed. "I was out of my mind with fear but I could hear from your breathing that you would need medical attention. So I tried to stay me for as long as I could. I saw you in that wrecked car and your breathing was so laboured and your heart… I still managed to be me though. But when I couldn't rip the car door off in my human form, I knew I had no choice. So I let myself transform so I could get to you."

Cat could see that it pained Vincent to relive the memories of that night but she needed to press on.

"How did you get me out of the car?" Vincent frowned, not understanding where she was going with her question.

"I just swept you into my arms."

"And then?"

"I wanted to run but I knew that that would most probably kill you, so I just stood there, and then took a few steps to the left, a few to the right, frantically trying to get back to my human form so that I could help you… You know, claws are no good in a situation like that… I think at some point I might actually have prayed to God – something I haven't done since before 9/11, you know… But you were fading so fast!" Vincent seemed surprised at his own frankness but blamed it on the sleepless night he had just had. Catherine squeezed his hand and looked him in the eyes:

"Why do you think were you unable to transform back?"

"I was terrified. You were dying right there in my arms. I could literally hear your right lung collapse. There was no way of keeping the adrenaline down, I was so frightened…" This was clearly torture for Vincent but Catherine insisted.

"If you had to compare your adrenaline levels that night to the levels it usually takes you to transform, what would you say they were?"

"Completely through the roof. I think they were the highest I've ever experienced. I took me such a long time to snap out of it, too. I was unable to be me while following the ambulance, and then for a very long time outside the hospital. It's only when you came out of surgery and I could single out your breathing that I managed to get back to being me…"

"How long do you think your transformation lasted that night?"

"At least two hours. Why?"

"Why do you think it lasted so long? I mean, there was no physical threat there to you – once I was in the ambulance you knew that I was going to be fine, right?"

"No, I wasn't sure about anything that night. I was so scared for you, I was afraid to hope that everything was going to be fine. I know it's completely irrational but I just couldn't calm myself down. I needed to hear you, your breathing, to do that…"

"OK. Let's back up a bit now. When you ripped off the car door, what were you feeling?"

"Anger, pain, anguish… a good combination, you know, a nice adrenaline cocktail," said Vincent, getting impatient with the cross-examination.

"And did you vent, try and get rid of some of that adrenaline?" Cat asked, trying to catch his eye.

"I don't know, I think I vented some of it by crying out, you know, roaring. And I threw the car door with some force."

"And did that help? Did it make you any calmer for when you bent down to actually get me from the car?"

"No, not really. Why? Catherine, where is this going?"

"Just bear with me, OK? What about my seatbelt? I was still wearing a seatbelt, right?"

"I must have ripped it off to get to you, what difference does it make?"

"It makes all the difference and you'll see why in a minute. Everything you have told me, and everything a very drunk JT told me last night, plays right into my epiphany… Vincent, just hear me out, OK?"

Vincent nodded. What choice did he have?

Catherine got up to get something from her coat. It looked like a photograph. She turned it so that Vincent could not see it yet.

"So let's see what we've got so far: first, my voice, my touch can calm you down once you have turned. It has always worked so far and I believe it would also work if you really should transform while we are… intimate."

Vincent was about to protest but Catherine pressed her index finger on his lips. "Hear me out, please!"

"Second, the simple thought of me coming to your rescue helped you stay in control when you were about to turn. So imagine if I was right there to help you through it. I mean, if things heat up too much and you feel you are no longer in control, why not just tell me, hand over that control to me? I know you said yesterday that you feel out of control when you are with me.

You know, I feel the same when I'm with you: you can undo me with a few words, or a longing look. I have never felt this way about someone before: Vincent, I love you, worry for you, desire you and am afraid to lose you. A lot of feelings, a lot of different triggers that cause an adrenaline rush. I get them all the time, too. You know very well, you can hear my heart from like a mile away. And yes, I know it's different for you but I believe that if we got one or two of those triggers under control, you could still enjoy a 'healthy' adrenaline rush.

I mean, even two years ago, while you were with that woman, you were probably worrying about her safety all along. My guess is that it was your anxiety added onto your desires that pushed you over the edge. Once you felt yourself transforming, you panicked even more. And thus we got a disastrous result."

"Well of course I panicked! I was turning into a killing machine. I cannot control myself, I am not in charge when I'm not myself… Why can't you see that? And your explanation of what happened to me two years ago is a guess – it's a hypothesis that I am not willing to test on you!"

"You are not a killing machine, Vincent. You're not a monster. Why can't _you_ see that? And you are more in control of yourself when you transform than you think. JT and I know this because we _see_ you when you're not you. You're stuck in this body that you no longer control, or only partly control - I don't know, I'm guessing here, it's not like you are very forward when it comes to describing what happens to you when you transform. But it looks to me that you overlook that your non-human side has instincts, too."

Vincent looked at Catherine with a mixture of hope and horror. "What do you mean? Besides killer instincts there is not much there."

"Vincent, don't forget that the first time I saw you, I didn't see you in your human form. But –gut feeling, remember?- I knew back then that you would not hurt me. I instinctively trusted you. And I think that your… your animal side sensed that and that it reacted to me. It still reacts to me. When you are not yourself, I think I can get through to you, your human side, because your animal side lets me get through. Because... perhaps... your animal side trusts me more than your human side does."

Vincent shook his head in disbelief. "I would love to believe that, Catherine. You have no idea how much I would love to believe that you are right…"

"I know you don't believe me. Yet. So let me come to my third point: the way you behaved towards me the night I got shot. You admitted that that night you experienced the biggest adrenaline rush so far, right? So, in theory: the more adrenaline, the less control you have over yourself and your actions, right?"

"But, Vincent, look," Catherine produced the photograph she had been holding in her hands, "this is a police picture of the mangled car seat in Heather's car." Vincent glanced at it and quickly looked away when he saw the blood, her blood, on the back of the seat. "Look closer, look at the seatbelt," Cat prompted him. Vincent grabbed the photo and stared at it.

"You didn't rip it. You opened it, claws and all, because you didn't want to cause me any more pain. You were experiencing the worst adrenaline rush in your life, you were in pain, angry and afraid and you managed to control yourself, your non-human side, enough to work the seatbelt and gently cradle me in your arms."

"Vincent, that night, when you thought you were completely out of control, not only did you decide not to run because that would have killed me. You also held me in your arms for quite a while, right? Until Evan showed up. I mean, I have seen you snap someone's neck and tear people limb to limb when you are like that. But that night, with your adrenaline at an all-time high you still knew how to handle my unconscious body so as to not cause a single additional bruise or scratch. So call me crazy but I know that your human side is not the only side of you that wants to make sure that I don't get hurt. Your animal side wants to keep me safe, too. Which means I am safe with you, no matter what. That's my epiphany!"


	3. Chapter 3

"So call me crazy but I know that your human side is not the only side of you that wants to make sure that I don't get hurt. Your animal side wants to keep me safe, too. Which means I am safe with you, no matter what. That's my epiphany!"

Catherine drew a long breath and waited for Vincent to respond. During the last few minutes, he had slowly pushed himself further away from her. He was still sitting on the sofa, at a distance, head down, knotting his hands together: a picture of misery. The photo of Heather's car had fallen out of his hands at some stage. As the seconds ticked by, Cat grew more and more nervous.

For a while there, she had thought that she was getting through to him. That he could see the logic of her argument. Now she was not so sure anymore. What else could she say to reassure him? Sadness washed over her as she suddenly felt powerless and drained at the realization that this might be it: that his fear was so paralyzing that this might actually be as close as they would ever get.

Vincent's reaction took her completely by surprise.

Within a split second he was at her side and in one swift moment, he swept her onto his lap. He gently put his trembling hands on either side of her neck, his thumbs exerting slight pressure on her jaw line. His sudden movement and the closeness of his body caused Catherine to close her eyes for the first few seconds of contact. When she opened them to look at him, she couldn't help but gasp at the desperation in his eyes and the tenseness of his face. Cat didn't think that it was possible for Vincent to look more vulnerable than he had when he came to tell her that he had accidentally killed Darius. She had been wrong.

She fought the urge to just kiss all his worries away, not yet knowing what the expression in his eyes meant. She just looked at the tortured man in front of her and poured every ounce of love she felt for him into her gaze, hoping he could see and feel what he really meant to her and how utterly convinced she was that he would never ever hurt her.

Vincent's breathing was shallow and he still hadn't said a word. At least he did not break eye contact and his facial features seemed to relax a bit as a result of the loving expression in her eyes.

Vincent's voice was more gravelly than usual when he finally spoke: "Catherine, I want to believe you… I so desperately wish your epiphany to be true. But if you knew how much control I have to exercise around you… if you only knew what it costs me to keep myself in check…" His voice trailed off.

"Tell me, then. Vincent, please tell me what happens inside you when you're with me. I need to know," Catherine said as she slowly moved her hands to rest on his chest. His heart was drumming against his ribcage like crazy.

"Please don't think for a second that you don't make me happy, Catherine. I'm giddy with happiness every time I get to see you, even just from a distance. But I also feel so vulnerable when I'm around you; I'm constantly struggling to stay in control of my emotions. I have been fighting these feelings that you have awoken in me for so long now and I feel like I'm losing control. The closer we get, the less I seem to be able to fight these urges… And I know if have to fight them, I need to pull away, in order to keep you safe… "

"What urges?" Catherine interjected, already anticipating what he was going to say but aware of the fact that he needed to talk this through.

"The urge to pull you into my arms and kiss you. Caress you. Show you in every way possible how much you mean to me. You know…"

"Those are natural urges for people who love each other, aren't they?" Catherine whispered, in a soothing voice.

"Natural! Nothing is natural for a monstrous creature like me, not anymore. I have to fight them, because if I ever lose control, I can hurt you, I can kill you…" Vincent's mind was clearly struggling with what he thought was an insurmountable problem but Catherine could not help but notice that his body had already given up the fight.

While he was telling her that he needed to keep himself in check because he was a monster, his left hand had wandered from her neck down to her waist and just as he said that nothing was natural for him, he laid his hand on the small of her back and gently pushed her forward, reducing the distance between their bodies. Catherine decided to leave her hands where they were, realizing that Vincent was so caught up in his worries that he had not registered his body instinctively following its own agenda. If she started caressing him back, though, he might pull away again.

In a soothing tone, she whispered: "Does this not feel natural? It does to me."

His bodily reaction surprised her again: he leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. Then he whispered in reply: "Yeah, it does. It feels good, so good. But my adrenaline levels are already dangerously high; I'm scared it would only take me very little to lose control… It's not that I don't want this, Catherine, I do. But I don't want to hurt you."

"Vincent, you didn't hurt me the night I got shot. At a time you felt completely out of control… Can't you see what that means?"

"Catherine, even if what you say is true, that the animal side in me also wants to keep you from harm… I… I still don't want you to see me… turning… while…" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"OK," said Catherine, sitting up straight, taking her hands off Vincent's chest and pushing herself all the way back, pretending to want to slide off his knees. His body's reaction was immediate. His right arm dropped down and grabbed her around the waist, holding her tightly, not allowing her to stand up. She didn't struggle but had to fight the urge to smile: he still seemed oblivious to the way in which his body was responding to hers.

"Ah, another snag," she said softly. "You're not only scared that you could hurt me if you turn. You're scared that if you turn, or partially turn, while we're intimate I will find you repulsive… that I will turn away for good… or what, Vincent?"

Vincent sighed and dropped his head. While his mind was feverishly trying to keep his emotions at bay, his body was on autopilot: his arms gently pulled Catherine closer again. She didn't put up resistance. But she couldn't keep herself from saying:

"OK, Vincent, so let me ask you one thing: which part of the sentence 'I accept all of what you are' is unclear to you? What bit did you not get? Because I can explain it over and over until you get it, you silly, silly man!"

Vincent's head shot up: Catherine's tone had become more playful with every single word. Also, she was sitting on his lap, seemingly comfortable, with her head tilted to the right and a big smile on her lips. He shook his head as if trying to get out of a stupor. "How did you end up…" he managed to say. She let out a chuckle.

"Looks like there's a part of you that decided it had enough of your… how shall I put this politely… mental masturbations? You grabbed me and pulled me onto your lap about ten minutes ago, remember?"

"I remember wanting to pull you towards me, and fighting that urge. But I don't remember taking the conscious decision to act upon it…" His voice was suddenly tainted with worry: "Hold on, when you say I grabbed you… did I force you? Did I hurt you?"

"What am I going to do with you?" said Catherine, taking Vincent's face between her hands. "No, you did not hurt me. You were gentle, as always. Really, no wonder your adrenaline levels are all over the place if you worry all the time, if you don't trust yourself even to take me in your arms without snapping me in two… Vincent, baby, you need to ease up on the guilt and on the worry. Can you do that for me?"

"I don't know if I can… I don't know if I can afford to." His answer was a mere whisper. Catherine had to strain to hear what he was saying.

"Well, will you let me try and help you work on that, please?" said Catherine, tracing his scar with her thumb at which he closed his eyes.

Vincent nodded and said: "You are a truly amazing woman, Catherine. I don't deserve you…"

"You deserve everything, Vincent. Everything, do you hear me?" Suddenly Catherine had tears in her eyes. Fighting them back, she whispered: "I love you, Vincent. And I know that we can do this safely. You don't think I'd be reckless enough to jeopardize your and my safety, do you?"

She could literally see the last few nuggets of reticence disappear from his eyes as he bent forward to finally kiss her. All the desperation and pain were gone, replaced by a look full of hope, passion and longing. As soon as his lips met hers, she knew she had won the battle.

**So... I am actually working on how this could progress. Might well become my first smutty, steamy chapter ever - not sure whether I should just end my story here or whether you want to read some more sexy VinCat scenes. Let me know : )**


	4. Chapter 4

**So, several of you wanted a smutty continuation to the story and I am happy to oblige. Warning: My imagination may have run wild so it's really smutty and really sexy! **

**As always, thanks for the reviews and look out for chapter 10 of 'Keeping him safe' and my future VinCat stories. **

As their kisses became more passionate, Catherine realized the extent to which Vincent had been holding back his emotions. The few times they had kissed before, she had felt his love and passion but he had not been so forward and demanding as he was now.

They kissed each other repeatedly, barely stopping to gasp for breath before searching for each other's lips again. Catherine could feel herself getting more aroused by the minute and she was sure Vincent was perfectly aware of how worked up she was. His inhibitions seemed to have disappeared, at least for the moment, and she decided to act before his fear would kick in again and cause him to interrupt what they were both clearly enjoying.

She suddenly needed to feel his bare skin and, while still kissing him, she pulled at his T-shirt. Not letting go of her lips, he sat up a bit so she could slide the T-shirt over his back. Their lips briefly parted for her to quickly pull it off completely before they went for an even deeper kiss. As she started caressing Vincent's back, a small moan escaped Catherine's mouth.

Vincent pulled back a few inches to study her face. "Catherine, are you OK?" he whispered, a hint of doubt creeping back into his voice.

Alarm bells went off in Catherine's head. She quickly cupped his face and said: "OK? Vincent, I'm so much more than OK. Can your super senses not pick up on that?"

"Here goes nothing… again!" Cat thought to herself and then just said what was really on her mind: "I was just wondering whether we could move this to your bed."

At her words, Vincent's eyes immediately shone golden and a few veins appeared on his neck. A low growl escaped from his throat. Panic was clearly creeping back into his eyes and replacing the unadulterated passion of a few moments before. He averted his eyes and started to pull away.

"Vincent, look at me, please!" Catherine's voice was soothing. He reluctantly did as she asked. Cat whispered: "I love you. You trust me, right?"

Vincent exhaled and the glow in his eyes disappeared, as did the veins. He nodded and said very quietly:

"I love you, too. I'm just not sure I can trust myself. You know, every fibre of me wants this, wants you. But I'm so into you, I can't think straight. And that scares me…."

"Vincent, I trust you. Utterly and completely. Why don't you take me to your bedroom? I promise I'll make sure we're both fine. And I can do some straight thinking for the two of us, you know?"

Vincent's eyes narrowed briefly. Catherine could see the doubt and fear disappear again and drew a sigh of relief.

"You may well be the end of me, Catherine," he breathed into her mouth before plunging into another mind-blowing kiss. He grabbed her tightly around the waist with his left arm while his right arm moved lower to prop up her behind as he got ready to get up. Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck and –without any apparent effort- Vincent stood up and started moving towards the staircase. He gently put Cat down at the bottom of the stairs and she gave him a playful kiss on the tip of his nose before turning and quickly running up the stairs.

She didn't stop until she reached the foot of his bed. She felt the heat coming off Vincent's body as he stopped just inches behind her. What was he waiting for? As if he had read her thoughts, his right arm suddenly grabbed her around the waist and spun her around. His eyes were dark with love, passion and lust as he drew her into an embrace. His skin seemed to have heated up from when she had touched it downstairs only a couple of minutes earlier. Cat shivered with delight as Vincent's tongue explored her mouth while his hands worked their way from her upper back to her lower back before pulling her blouse from her jeans.

She moaned and gently pushed her hands against his chest, causing him to stop immediately. "Let's get rid of this, shall we?" she said as she started taking off her blouse. Vincent nodded and swallowed hard. He kept his eyes firmly on her face for a few seconds until she took his right hand and pressed it against her collarbone. He immediately started caressing her skin and his eyes also started exploring her exposed skin.

Hopeful that she would be able to convince Vincent that they could be intimate and that they would move on to prove that theory straight away, Catherine –who usually wore comfortable cotton underwear- had carefully chosen her sexiest underwear that morning.

Vincent's trembling fingers traced the left lace strap of her bra and then, so slowly it was pleasantly painful for Cat, moved on to trace the bra's outline over her left breast. His finger lingered on her breastbone for a few seconds while he gazed into her eyes to gauge her reaction. He was clearly pleased with the effect his caresses had on her, a smile forming on his lips. His eyes wandered back to the enticing bra and his finger continued its tentative exploration.

Catherine braced herself for his reaction as she felt his finger approach the scar caused by the shotgun wound. The bra covered most of it but she knew that he would feel the uneven skin under his finger immediately. And she was right: he froze and frowned as soon as he felt the scar. "Catherine?"

She sighed and quickly unhooked her bra. "It's OK, Vincent," she said as she let the bra drop to the floor. She could hear him inhale sharply as he saw the small pink elevated knot right at the top of her circular scar where some of her stitches had ripped the night in the woods, when she had fought Muirfield at his side. "I thought they had done a proper job stitching it up?" Vincent mumbled, clearly shocked and unable to tear his eyes away from the scar.

Catherine put her hand on his jaw and slowly lifted his face until his eyes met hers. "They did," she said. "I partly ripped the scar fighting that Muirfield agent in the woods." Vincent's eyes widened. "Hey, it's not a big deal, OK? My doctor tells me it will look less ugly over time. We're both here now. Let's enjoy this moment, please?" Cat continued and took a small step towards him, closing the distance between them. She shivered as her cool bare skin touched his warm chest and reached up to slide her arms around his neck.

Vincent's body reacted immediately to the feel of her skin against his. He wrapped his arms around her and, kissing her with increased urgency, let his hands wander up and down her back until he could no longer help himself: he let his hands glide down further and started moving his hands up and down her shapely behind. A low growl escaped his throat in response to Catherine's soft moans.

"Time to take off our trousers, I think," Catherine whispered into his mouth. He didn't argue. She took off her boots and slid her trousers off as Vincent took a few steps back and quickly unzipped his jeans. Cat tried kicking her trousers away but one of her trouser legs had got stuck somehow. As she bent down to untangle it, she could hear Vincent chuckle at her. She liked the sound and was relieved that he was still relaxed enough to laugh at the fool she was making of herself.

As she straightened up again, Cat's eyes fell on Vincent's stomach. She had been so absorbed in their kisses and the feel of his skin, and her visual field had been restricted to his upper torso so far, that she had not noticed the long scar that ran from his ribcage down to his hip on his left side.

"Vincent?" she whispered questioningly as she gently traced this new scar, a scar she had known nothing about, with a trembling index finger. He shivered at her touch and then mumbled: "I got it in Afghanistan. And this one, too." He turned slightly and showed her another scar, about five or six inches long, that ran diagonally over the back of his thigh. "Plus a couple of shotgun wounds." He pointed them out to her and she quickly covered them with kisses.

Then she straightened up, took a step back –the back of her knees touching the bed- and took in the man she loved in his entirety. She stretched out both her hands and gently laid them on his stomach, just an inch above his boxer shorts. Then she moved them upwards, very slowly, her fingertips tingling as she felt his body tense up under her touch. She looked into his eyes, and could see that they were starting to shine golden again.

"All good?" she whispered.

Vincent nodded as he stepped closer and bent down to kiss her. She let herself sink onto the bed and he followed her movement. She pushed herself further up the bed and he followed, hovering over her, extremely careful not to crush her. He propped himself up on one arm while his free hand stroked her arms, her shoulders, and her breasts before moving towards her stomach. Her hands frantically wandered over his back and as she pulled him closer, she could briefly feel his erection before he moved back slightly.

Briefly breaking their passionate kiss, Vincent lay down on her right side and pushed himself up on his elbow to look Cat in the eyes. His fingers were playing with the laced border of her panties. "God, you are so beautiful." His eyes had been a constant golden tint for a while now but otherwise he did not show signs of turning. Things were going a lot better than Cat had expected.

"Vincent, baby, I want you so much." Having him so close really drove her insane with desire. She was no longer sure she would be able to think straight for the two of them, as she had promised him. She quickly grabbed his hand and moved it between her legs to show him how ready she was to make love to him.

He gasped before quickly sliding her panties off in one swift movement. He got off the bed to take off his boxer shorts and Catherine smiled at him as he finally stood there in front of her completely naked. As he took in all of her beauty, a low growl escaped his throat. Suddenly, he seemed embarrassed by the sound he had made and as a consequence did not move.

"Vincent, baby… come here, please. I… I want you inside me." Catherine didn't have to beg him further. In one swift movement, he was kneeling on the bed and gently pushed her legs apart. He hovered over her for a brief moment before entering her. Cat gasped at the wonderful sensation and her eyes closed involuntarily. Vincent stopped moving immediately but at least stayed inside her.

"Look at me, look at me, please…" Vincent's voice was tense. "I need you to look at me so I can see if you need me to stop…." His face had tensed up, too, and Catherine could see his veins starting to show again.

"OK, baby, I'm looking at you. Please don't stop… It feels so good…" Cat hoped that the tone of her voice conveyed both reassurance and her desire for him.

Vincent started moving again, very slowly, not taking his eyes off Cat for even a split second. She wanted to thrust herself upward so as to feel him even deeper inside her but was afraid that her sudden movement might cause him to stop altogether. So she bit her lip, forced herself to keep as still as she could, looked at Vincent and stroked his well-built upper arms in an effort to reassure him that she was doing great, both with her gaze and her touch.

Suddenly, without warning, Vincent slid out of her and pushed himself back up into a kneeling position. A small groan escaped Cat's mouth. Was he pulling away? No, he did not flee from the bed; he just looked at her, panting. Cat looked into his face for signs of growing distress. His eyes were by now an even more intense, glowing golden hue, but, after taking several deep breaths, Vincent smiled down at her. She relaxed and waited for him to make the next move, to show her where he would like to go next.

He moved forward again, slotted himself between her knees and shoved his right arm under her lower back, lifting her thighs and hips up towards him until she was at the right height for him to enter her. As he thrust himself into her, Catherine could not help but cry out in pleasure.

"Oh yes, baby," growled Vincent in reply and started moving faster, emitting panting and growling sounds as he went on. He did not take his eyes off her and she forced herself to keep hers wide open, as he had asked her to before.

Catherine's breath became more ragged by the second and, feeling that she was close to climaxing, she whispered: "Pull me up, baby, pull me up!" Vincent sat back onto his heels as he brought his other arm around her waist and quickly pulled her up into a sitting position without sliding out of her.

He sat completely still again for a while, his chest heaving. Cat, too, calmed down somewhat. She looked at Vincent with eyes filled with love and desire as her hands started frantically tousling his hair. The expression in his eyes mirrored hers. Cat could not help but find the golden tint in his irises sexy. Suddenly she needed to feel his lips on hers again, and so she bent forward and passionately claimed his lips, moaning into his mouth as his tongue moved into her mouth and as he started thrusting again.

With a deep sigh, Vincent broke their kiss and buried his face in her hair that was hanging down over her collarbone, while slowing down his movements. "Catherine, baby, you're driving me completely insane. I don't know how long I can resist… before…"

"I know, baby, I know. I am ready, too," Cat whispered back as she started frantically grinding herself against him, impatient for him to increase the tempo.

A loud, visceral growl escaped Vincent's throat and he instantly froze. Cat leaned back a few inches to look at him and saw why he had stopped: his face was showing clear signs of turning. She saw the panic in his eyes increase by the second and knew that he would turn completely and run from her soon. She also knew that in that case it would take her months to convince him to try this again. Vincent kept his body very still but at least his arms were still around her.

"Vincent, baby, don't be afraid. I love you. Nothing bad is going to happen, OK? You're just really aroused," she said as she cupped his half-turned face. "As am I," she added before kissing his lips. They felt slightly different, tougher, but Catherine poured all her love and desire into her kiss. She was relieved that Vincent let her do so.

When he started kissing her back, she slowly started pushing herself up and down against him. Both their breaths became more ragged and Catherine briefly interrupted their kiss to look at him. He was still half-turned but clearly trusted her enough not to run.

"Make me come, baby?" she whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck bulging with veins, as she saw the hesitation in his golden eyes.

At her words, something snapped in Vincent. His facial features relaxed, nearly going back to normal, but the sounds coming from his throat sounded more animal. He growled, grabbed her hips and lifted her up enough to nearly slide out of her before pulling her down quickly while thrusting upwards at the same time. Cat let out a moan of pleasure as he filled her deeply and completely. And then another one, as Vincent pulled her up and pushed her down again. Pull and push, pull and push; speeding up between one thrust and the other, causing her sighs to become louder and louder. Vincent panted and growled in response.

Catherine held on to Vincent's neck and made sure to look him into his eyes as she fast approached her climax.

"Vincent, baby, you're going to make me come…" she groaned, as she could feel an orgasm building up. At her words, Vincent sped up even more and, as soon as he felt the convulsions inside her, he growled: "Yes, come for me, baby. Come for me…" before climaxing himself with a loud, primeval snarl only seconds after she had.

Vincent's head dropped onto Cat's shoulder and she started gently stroking his back, waiting for the quivering in his body to subside. It took her a few seconds to realize that he was crying.

"Vincent, baby," she whispered as she moved her hands to his face and tried to make him look up at her. "Talk to me…"

"I'm just relieved that nothing bad happened, you know…"

"There still was a part of you that didn't believe we could actually do this, right? That you would end up hurting me…" Catherine ventured.

Vincent nodded: "Yes. Thank you for proving me wrong. Thank you for waking me from my nightmare…"

"Hey, it wasn't a completely selfless exercise, you know. Turns out this could be a pretty good deal for me too, Vincent."

He looked up at her and whispered: "Are you sure you're alright? Right at the end I might have been too rough…"

"Vincent, baby, I've never been better. And I liked what you did to me at the end, couldn't you tell?"

A smile formed on Vincent's face and Catherine pulled him up into a long, soothing kiss.

"Don't you dare go all Edward Cullen on me," she joked as she finally got off him and caught him examining her entire body as she lay down.

"Who's Edward Cullen?" Vincent asked as he pulled the bed covers over them and bent down to kiss the love of his life.

**THE END**


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